Tuesday, September 23rd
It is 2:30 in the afternoon but the aisles of the
big department store where I am pushing my cart are quiet. There is no hustle,
no bustle, no whining or crying or vying for the last of the great deals of the
day. There is no one blocking my path, no one asking if I need assistance. I am
quite alone. I know I haven’t missed the rapture and my solitude has nothing to
do with the economy. There are other shoppers in the store, just not here with
me, in the Christmas section.
Ahh! The glitz! The glitter! The rows of brightly
colored new merchandise replacing potting soil and plastic gnomes. The displays
are tidy and complete, not yet pilfered by the bargain hungry hands. I wander,
running my fingers over velvet stockings and miniature ornaments that sparkle
in the fluorescent lighting. I make reindeer dance and Santas sing as I pass,
allowing butchered versions of the Christmas classics to ascend and disperse
cheer to the shoppers across the way buying orange vests and thermal long
johns.
I love Christmas. It never comes too early. A
junkie, according to Webster, is ‘a person who derives inordinate pleasure from
something.’ That’s me, a Christmas junkie.
I know I’m not alone. There are other Christmas
junkies out there in other stores in other towns and other countries feeling
the same endorphin rush at the first scent of cinnamon scented pinecones. We
come in all ages and colors, incomes and marital status. But there is one
distinguishing feature of the every true Christmas junkie: Joy. Her heart is
filled with the wonder and awe of Jesus. She sings at the top of her lungs with
her forty seven Christmas CDs because she understands that Christmas ascends
the commercialism. She sees the celebration for what it is, the beginning of
the end. The end of guilt and shame, the end of separation from God. She knows
that Jesus came to us with a plan. He came with the gift of salvation clasped
in His tiny infant hands. And that is reason to celebrate. So what if it is
only September?
In a world where sentiment toward Christian
tradition is weakening, we may be tempted to be politically correct but ‘Happy
Holidays’ doesn’t have to cross our lips and our cards don’t have to say
‘Season’s Greetings.’ It is the birth of our Savior we celebrate. It is
Christmas! What better time for merriment?
So don’t be embarrassed. Go ahead, hang miniature
ornaments from your earlobes and tie jingle bells to your shoes. Hum the old carols and cover your house in
lights. And when you hear someone groan at the sight of giant inflatable
snow-globes encroaching on the Halloween costumes, smile and say “Isn’t
Christmas wonderful?”
Rachel S. Neal writes from Missoula, Montana. tencenttours@yahoo.com